


(all that glitters) Isn't Gold

by Puppetqueen



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Snow White and the Huntsman Fusion, Gen, Yixing-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25941910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puppetqueen/pseuds/Puppetqueen
Summary: Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?To stand in front of this cursed mirror was no choice at all.
Comments: 12
Kudos: 23
Collections: Challenge #6 — Rise of Kingdoms





	(all that glitters) Isn't Gold

**Author's Note:**

> I used to write for the DBSK fandom waaaaaay back in the day. This fic is a loose EXO remix of an old fic. That being said, this is also a very very loose interpretation of that live action Snow White movie with Kristen Stewart. Thanks for reading!

_Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?_

The mirror is silent, it’s golden surface agonizingly still. Yixing waits long moments, the ball of desperation and anxiety that sits in his stomach weighing heavily the longer he goes without an answer. Its silence plagues him, the quiet deafening, but all he can do is wait.

_Mirror, mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them all?_

He repeats the words with a torch in hand, peering close to the mirror’s surface, watching for movement, for some kind of acknowledgement. The seconds tick by with agonizing stillness and for the hundredth time since he walked through the threshold of this forgotten room, he’s left to wonder if this is the right choice. 

No. To stand in front of this cursed mirror was no choice at all. Yixing doesn’t stand here of his own volition, not with the siege they’ve been under for three days. He doesn’t know how long the city will remain standing and between honor and ruin, what choice does he really have? 

He knows what it means to stand here, in this room with the memory of his mother’s madness and his father’s downfall. 

He knows better than anyone the way she’d used this mirror to shape a kingdom with the blood of countless innocents on her hands, their bodies laid like the most gruesome offerings at her feet. 

He knows, and yet here he is—poised at the very edge of his own undoing. 

He stares hard at his own reflection. The crown he wears, these heavy robes, every jewel that glitters on his hands and wrists—what do any of these mean if he can’t protect his own people? Here, in this room, where the lines between triumph and defeat are blurred, how much is he willing to barter for deliverance? 

_The mirror knows all your secrets_ , she’d told him when he was no more than a child. _Every desire and every whim,_ _if you want it bad enough_ , she’d promised, _the mirror will show you how to get it._

And oh, how Yixing wants. _Had she wanted?_ he wonders. Did she want like he does, anything for the salvation of their people? Did she stand before the mirror like he does, with hands fisted and desperate, hope waning, with the screams of hundreds of thousands ringing through the halls and their cries for mercy a never ending chorus? 

Is this how she’d spiraled into madness? 

Is this how he plunges into his own insanity?

Yixing closes his eyes against the crushing ache of despair and channels all his thoughts, all his energy, and wills the mirror to manifest the dark magic that lurks in its depths. He stands here without a choice, but if he doesn’t, then he will be without a kingdom. 

_Mirror, mirror—_

Just as he mutters the phrase a third time something in the mirror moves. At first he thinks it’s a trick of the light, nothing but the flicker of flames, but then it happens again—a liquid ripple in what should have been solid gold. With his heart beating like a frantic drum, he watches as the ripples grow in intensity and then stop in a violent shudder, magic distorting his own image and stretching gold and glass until something emerges from the glinting, flat surface. Slowly, something begins to form in the glass, half emerging from the smooth and flat surface to reveal the distinct shape of a person’s head. But that’s all it is; a head. Faceless and empty, the head speaks.

 _There is none more fair than you my liege_. The words reverberate in Yixing’s chest, pulling open and unravelling the knotted depths of his soul. The voice is guttural and grating, but seductive as it whispers between his ears. _How may I be of service?_

And Yixing knows the consequences, the kind of eternal hell he damns himself to, but even before he can open his mouth he knows the spell has been cast. 

There, reflected back at him are his hopes and dreams, the honor and the glory he longs for, the utopia his mother had killed and died for. Maybe he really is his mother’s son because in this very moment he’d kill and die for that dream too. 

“Show me,” he says, walking up to the vision depicted in gold and glass. “Show me how to save my kingdom.”

And even without a face, without eyes, or a mouth, he knows the mirror is smiling when it replies. 

_Yes, my king._

**Author's Note:**

> I do so love my fusion fics :)))
> 
> Here’s the link to the original TVXQ fic that I remixed, featuring crazed king!jaejoong if anyone is interested: https://equiilibrium.livejournal.com/34319.html


End file.
